


All the Stars and Moons and Skies

by kaulayau



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Cooking, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, space references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 07:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13782387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaulayau/pseuds/kaulayau
Summary: Even I began to cry and tremble.





	All the Stars and Moons and Skies

**Author's Note:**

> let me be clear and transparent and non-opaque and everything — frankly, I’m not the biggest fan of this ship! like, yeah, they’re cute, I suppose, but they’re so obviously the direction the films are turning, and I’m just... yeah xD
> 
> still. hope you like this!
> 
> february ficlet challenge day 10: cooking together
> 
> (as a side side note, I got the title from “soldier & rose,” another breathtaking ghost quartet song! man I love dave malloy)

It’s hard not to laugh when she does. It’s hard not to smile when she does, it's hard not to cry when she does, it’s just — hard not to be around her. Rey’s just… magnetic. People are drawn to her, or people are repelled — those are the two unavoidable extremes. She feels so strongly, acts so strongly. She’s an unreckoned force, a gravity, an orbit. People have said that.

What does Poe say? What does he _think_ he says?

Well. here’s not much to say but what is true.

She is captivating. When he looks at her, he sees the aurora borealis and nothing less.

“You’re — incredible,” he says, wiping the flour off his nose. Poe pretends that it’s oil and not some failed attempt at a basic homemade commodity. “You’re… I don’t even know. No one knows. I’m wordless.”

Rey can make planets turn on their axes, do a million and one things. Proper cooking definitely isn’t one of them. And there’s guests coming over in an hour, so. The clock’s ticking fast. They’ll have to clean all this shit up, too.

There have been worse things. This is the best worst thing Poe has ever encountered.

If he could stay here forever, with her, then he would.

Her apron is the Milky Way Galaxy, canola oil spotting into its suns and stars. “Wordless?” Her hair, tangled and flying, is caked with baking soda. Every time she blinks, powdery snow falls from her eyes. “That’s because you ate all the successful stuff. You’re too occupied to do much else.”

“What? No.” Poe crosses his arms. She copies him, reflexively, expression bursting with supernova light. “I did no such thing. My stomach is — completely empty. You wanna scan it or something?”

“Who can find the time?”

“If anyone can, it’ll be you.” But before Poe can even think, there’s sugar in his face, nebulas in his vision — and not just her. He spits it out and away. “S-see, how do we have ‘successful stuff’ if you’re throwing it around everywhere?”

“We’re never going to use it anyway, so I’m not about to put it to waste.” How ever _resourceful_ of her. “Poe, we should just — order something. Can’t we just — order something? The Internet can do it, right?”

“Well. We could.” But first — there’s not enough powder in her hair.


End file.
